


Heat Wave

by GallifreyanAtHearts



Category: Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanAtHearts/pseuds/GallifreyanAtHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat is getting to Bill. Gabe knows how to fix that. It may or may not involve throwing him into a swimming pool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat Wave

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for myself.

There are some days when nothing really happens. Days when boredom rustles the lazy trees and when viscous lethargy oozes from the walls turning every moment into a fresh hell of suffocation. These are the days when one’s own mind becomes the doldrums and every tiny action seems like a feat of strength.  
And then there are people like Gabe Saporta. People who seem entirely too energetic for such a sluggish existence, people for whom the melancholy seems to roll off of like water droplets. People who move too fast for the world itself, for it has surely slowed in its rotation on days like these.  
And if it didn’t take so much damn energy, Bill would _probably_ punch him for it. However, it is all he can do to lift his head off of the table to squint up at Gabe as if he were of some new alien species that Bill was both intrigued and slightly disgusted by. Gabe is sitting on the table next to Bill’s head, obviously talking, but the words he is saying do not seem to reach Bill’s ears.  
Bill lets his head fall back down, but instead of the table, it crashes down onto Gabe’s thigh. Gabe threads his fingers through Bill’s hair absently. Bill lets his eyes close but Gabe doesn’t let them stay that way. Bill eventually understands that Gabe is trying to communicate with him. It takes Bill another, longer, moment to comprehend that Gabe is asking after his well-being. Bill mumbles something about _tiredness_ , _boredom_ , and _this fucking heat wave_ into the cotton of Gabe’s shorts. Bill feels hands in his hair, lifting it off of his neck, and for a moment, until he is used to the difference, as if he might perhaps be able to lift himself off of the chair and drag himself inside. When Gabe asks if it feels better, Bill nods against his thigh.  
When Gabe stands, Bill let’s his head fall to the table, the surface heated by Gabe and by the sun that the patio umbrella was ill equipped to filter. It occurs to Bill to be annoyed with Gabe, but he does not have time to muster up anything more that apathy, because Gabe is pulling him upwards, out of his chair, by his armpits.  
It really is within his best interests to cooperate but Bill can’t make himself do anything other than maybe move his feet a bit as Gabe half drags the dead weight of him. Perhaps if he had cooperated, what happened next might have been avoided. For a split second, Bill is vaguely aware that there is no longer solid earth beneath his feet, but then he hits the water. He is too stunned to move for a moment and he shoots to the bottom of the pool, before stumbling into what might be called consciousness and rapidly swimming to the surface.  
He barely shakes the hair out of his eyes before reaching to grab Gabe by the calf, silencing his laughter, just as Bill pulls him down, into the water. It doesn’t quite work though, the angle is wrong, and Gabe just falls on his ass at the side of the pool. Gabe lets a creative stream of loving insults loose at Bill, but from their current positions, it was easy for Bill to shut him up by actually succeeding in dragging Gabe down into the water.  
Once Gabe is underwater, Bill doesn’t wait for him to get his bearings, but swims away, out of reach. His tee shirt and pants weigh him down a bit; it is not as if he had exactly anticipated a swim. He is in the process of pulling the wet shirt off when, through the material he sees Gabe resurface. He finishes the job and throws the shirt onto the grass next to the pool and turns to Gabe who is approaching him wearing an expression that told Bill that he was so in for it. This, of course, did nothing to slow down Gabe, who sent a splash of water, too large to really be called a splash, into Bill’s face. Bill retaliated. For obvious reasons, it was not long before the two devolved into flapping their hands at each other on the water’s surface like children in a blow up pool.  
Both were laughing and both were coughing from having swallowed water. Bill stopped splashing at Gabe to push his hair back from his face. Gabe stopped as well. Bill thinks that perhaps it was the right thing to do for Gabe to drop him in the water. He admits this to Gabe. Gabe splashes him again, grinning, and tells Bill that he knows.  
Bill leap-walks, in the way that is unique to underwater movement, closing the gap between him and Gabe. He kisses Gabe on the mouth as thanks for helping him shake off the oppressive lethargy of the heat. Gabe understands what it means. Gabe always understands what he means, what he needs. Even when what he needs is to be drop kicked into a pool. Always.


End file.
